A Collision with Chance
by Aerows
Summary: Brenda has a collision with fate, and Sharon realizes that she has a collision with chance. Both women must make decisions that will alter both of their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**A COLLISION WITH CHANCE**

A/N: The Characters from The Closer do not belong to me. I'm merely depressed that series has ended, and I'm playing with them. Mary McDonnell and Kyra Sedgwick bring such life to every character they play, and it is a joy to take them out of the toybox and do with them what I will. And oh, will I do with them what I will. I own nothing. If I did, it would be a hell of a lot more R-rated :D.

Brenda Leigh Johnson squeezed her eyes shut. _Bang. Bang._ She felt liquid flow over her back and glass rain down, too. She barely moved, because she didn't want to get cut, but the gunshots and slosh of alcohol over her body still burned. She had to do something. She opened her eyes and rolled over to a crouched position.

"LAPD Drop your weapon!" She screamed, even as she felt glass cut into her knee. The liquor store robber looked frightened. She saw the young, African American man turn the pistol away from her, toward the store owner. She could see in his eyes that he was going to shoot the store owner. She squeezed off a shot, but liquor ran in her eyes throwing it off. Then all hell broke loose, and all she could do after getting off her shot was tuck tail, and wallow in the flood of broken whiskey bottles that surrounded her.

The shot liquor store owner shot a shotgun up in the air in the general direction of the robber, and frankly, Brenda Leigh was more afraid of his aim than that of the robber. More glass broke, and more liquor cascaded to the floor, and the Deputy Chief gripped her gun even as she sighed.

This was a bad end to a bad day.

Captain Sharon Raydor arrived at the scene, having been informed that there was an officer involved weapon discharge. She had wanted to argue that it wasn't necessary that she arrive every time an officer discharged their weapon, until she learned who it was. No one was dead, that was true. But the officer that had discharged a weapon was one Brenda Leigh Johnson, Deputy Chief. She shivered as she stepped out of her car, even though the night wasn't that cool for the desert of California.

Sharon could have lived her life without seeing someone that looked as simultaneously pitiful and pissed off as the Chief did right at that moment. She was drenched in fluid, presumably alcohol, had scratches on her knees, and was currently fighting with paramedics that were attempting to get her into an ambulance. The FID Captain could smell her before she even heard her, and the Deputy Chief was arguing loudly.

"I am just fine, gentlemen and if you would kindly take your hands off of me, I need to solve a crime!" The southern accent rang through the crime scene as Chief Johnson batted away their hands and attempts to stop her from standing. She looked ready to use her gun again. Lt. Flynn and Det. Gabriel looked actually afraid to intervene, and the brunette rolled her eyes. _They always leave me to do the dirty work. _

"Chief Johnson, are you refusing medical attention? Because if you are, that will cause more light to be shed on the inquiry into your weapon discharge." She said it in even tones, but knew that it would get the blond hurricane to focus on her, and possibly listen to her.

"My weapon discharge? My weapon discharge!?" The blond repeated twice, with her voice growing in volume with each word. "I was nearly killed in a liquor store when all I was doing was picking up a bottle of wine on my way home, and some idiot came in and tried to rob the place!" Brenda Leigh fumed with indignation, clearly picking up a head of steam. "They want to drag me away in a damned ambulance when I am the best witness they have, and all I have is a bloody knee. I've gotten worse trippin' into a briar patch!" The blonde waved an indignant finger then crossed her arms beneath her chest with a loud harrumph.

Sharon sized the woman up, and beneath the anger, she could see that she was trembling - with anger or fear, she wasn't certain. What she was certain was that the woman needed to get out of those clothes and out of the situation before the media came to call and Brenda (and the LAPD) got horrifically embarrassed more that she was already. She made a decision that she would likely decide was stupid later, but also decided that she could live with it. She left the huffing blonde to find Sergeant Elliot. They could handle it. Precious few had any hope of handling a pissed off, stinking Brenda Leigh Johnson. She knew that she couldn't, but she had the best shot since Fritz was in Washington.

She was, after all, every bit as stubborn as the blonde herself could ever be and in this case, while protecting both the Chief and the LAPD in a professional capacity, twice as determined. Captain Raydor was many things, but she had a protective streak a mile wide, and right now, the blonde needed someone to look out for her. Hauling the blonde by an arm, her nose wrinkling, she didn't stop until she reached the trunk of her car and yanked out a thin, shiny survival blanket. It would get the shaking blonde warm and hopefully keep the stink out of her car.

After shoving the Chief in the car, and making sure she had fastened her seat belt (while adjusting the blanket around her so her clothes wouldn't touch the seat), Sharon got in on the other side. She was thankful that the Chief had already been divested of her weapon at the scene; the bright, incandescent anger that flared in the blond woman's face at being taken away was impressive. Still, Sharon hadn't gotten where she was in life by being intimidated by anger. The woman smelled like a still and Chief Pope would never forgive Sharon if she let her go on film looking that way. She wouldn't forgive herself.

They drove to her house without words, until they were about halfway there. "Where are you takin' me?" Brenda snapped. Sharon sighed.

"I'm taking you to my house to get cleaned up, and to look at that cut on your knee. You can't get filmed for the news, which you would have most certainly done, looking like that." She said this with a note of finality, hoping the volatile blonde would see reason.

"I don't have anything to put on at your house." Brenda said, angrily. A pout formed on her lips. Once again, Sharon gave a long-suffering sigh.

"You also won't have reporters in the front yard at my house, because anything you do, Deputy Chief, is going to attract attention. This incident will have them standing on your lawn." Her tone was harsh, conveying the severity of the situation.

"I have clothes you can put on, and you can rest, which is what you should be doing." Sharon tried to deliver it in a calm, even tone but she could tell it got louder and more forceful as she spoke. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and her face was set in stone. "You could have been killed, and the last thing that you need are reporters rooting around in your life." Her voice softened.

Brenda Leigh sighed herself. It was a horrible day, but it looked like this was the best offer she was going to get of making it better. Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson did something she very rarely did. She sighed, felt a sense of gratitude that someone was doing something for her own good, even when she hated it, and then expressed it. She caught green eyes and gave what could have passed as a smile even though she felt sorrier than a scalded cat, and said quietly, "thank you, Captain."

**-()-**

Brenda Leigh shrugged out of her filthy, alcohol soaked clothes, and set about scrubbing every part of her body in Captain Raydor's generous shower. She washed her hair twice with the shampoo that smelled of citrus and something spicy, then ran thick conditioner through her locks. As she finally felt the adrenaline wear off, she looked at her knee. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but the cut looked nasty though not deep. She felt the high of the heat of the moment wear off, and sank down in the shower, hot water cascading over her and she cried.

Too many things were lost today, and to top it all off, she had nearly lost her life. Her tears mingled with hot water until it ran cold, her head on her knee that wasn't damaged, the other having the blood rinsed away under the spray.

A knock on the bathroom door brought her to her senses after a while. "Chief?" Sharon inquired politely, and when she didn't answer, "Brenda?" more forcefully. "I have some things for you to get into." And then she promptly opened the door and came right in. Brenda almost wanted to curse at her for her presumptuousness at intruding in the bathroom when she was in the shower when she realized it was Sharon's house.

She wiped her tears, and barely recognized her own voice when she said "I'm okay, just about to get out." Her voice sounded shaky and lost; she wouldn't have known it as her own had it not come out of her own mouth. She struggled to stand, then slipped a little with a thump on the tiles. The glass shower door was instantly opened and the water turned off. Before Brenda could react, a warm towel was flung around her shoulders, and she was pulled from the shower floor and guided to stand in the bathroom. Brenda suddenly felt helpless, vulnerable and hateful for feeling both of those things. She staggered away from the hold trying to secure her and nearly careened into the toilet.

"Steady, Chief. You are a bit light headed." Then the woman proceeded to rub her dry perfunctorily with a towel as though she was a child. That made Brenda pout even more, and the Captain even more gruff with her movements. "You are so stubborn, Chief. You nearly died today, and you can't even bear to have someone help you." It was said in a low growl, and the Captain yanked a shirt over Brenda's head. She offered a pair of panties, but suddenly the Chief got her head on straight and snatched them out of her hands. Something about having those beautiful hands touch her in such intimate places with no regard made her sad, and angry at herself for being sad.

"I think I know how to put these on Captain, seeing as I've been doing it for 47 years!" She shrieked at the brunette, who just smirked as though waiting for her to demonstrate her ability to do so. Brenda Leigh growled low in her throat and pulled them on, then held out her hand for the shorts the other woman offered her. She pulled those on, too, with a nasty smirk on her face, well aware she was being a bitch but despising the need to be taken care of by _that woman _in such an unfeeling way. Captain Raydor just reviewed that she was clothed, handed her another towel presumably for her hair, and exited the bathroom while closing the door behind her.

It crossed Brenda's mind briefly that she was mostly angry because the Captain hadn't reacted to seeing her body naked, and somehow, that just wasn't right. She'd seen green eyes rake her when she wasn't looking; maybe Fritz was right. She had sunk to the point where she was just too pathetic to love. Certainly she was too difficult to desire. Brenda Leigh Johnson felt the urge to sob again, as icy fingers of despair curled through her heart. She would have started crying again, but suddenly a delicious smell of hot stew crept through the door of the bathroom, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

At least Sharon Raydor cared enough to feed and clothe her before she got tired of her, too.

**-()-**

Sharon lay awake in her bed, ears attuned to the guest in her other bedroom. She tried, _God how she tried,_ to not let the other woman's charms affect her. And it wasn't that she was particularly long on them, she was just so _beautiful._ She shook her head against the pillow. She couldn't dwell on those thoughts. Brenda was married, and she certainly wouldn't sleep with a co-worker. Her eyes shot open.

When in the _hell_ had she started entertaining sleeping with the woman? Just because she had seen her naked earlier? Just because she had seen her vulnerable? Just because she was down the hall? She caressed her forehead with her palm. _Sharon Raydor, you are losing your mind if you think for one second that THAT WOMAN could ever be attracted to you._ She schooled her features to relaxed repose and sought out a meditation. It lasted about a minute before she heard a shrill cry from the guest bedroom, and Sharon bolted out of bed as though she had been struck by a reverse tazer that made her act instead of not act. Grabbing her service weapon, she hurled open the door to find Brenda Leigh's brown eyes meeting her own in fear.

Blushing, the brunette oriented her weapon to the floor, finger never touching the trigger and said softly, "I'm sorry, I heard you cry out, and was worried that..." She trailed off only to be drowned out by Brenda leaping into the conversation.

"I'm so sorry Captain, I didn't mean to awake you I was having a bad dream and I really should go home because I don't want to disturb you." The blonde finished it all in a rush, but there were tracks of tears on her face, and Sharon really wasn't going to just turn around and leave her like that. She put her service weapon on the bedside table, and sat on the side of the bed.

"Brenda, are you okay?" She asked it quietly, but so sincerely that in the quiet of the night, Chief Johnson didn't answer. Brenda Leigh did, with a shaky voice.

"No, Sharon, I don't think I am." The vulnerability of her tone clutched at the Captain's heart and she did something she never dreamed she would do. She lifted the covers and slid into bed with the gorgeous Southern woman. If she ever expected resistance when she pulled her into her arms, she got none, because Brenda Leigh Johnson just sank into her body as though she had been doing it all of her life and drifted into sleep. Captain Sharon Raydor breathed in her scent and followed her a moment later, thankful that Brenda was here after the shooting and even more glad that she was nestled with her, alive.


	2. Chapter 2

A Collision by Chance

(Chapter 2)

Brenda shifted, waking in a cloud of a powdery smell. Her body was unmistakeably warm, and it made her toes flex a little. It was hazy. It was simple. It made her dive right back into the warmth and fall asleep again, sure if she woke up the good feeling would end.

Sharon awoke with Brenda shifting into her side, running her toes up her calf, and palming her stomach. She could barely breathe. When she felt the lovely blonde hair trailing her arm, the softness of her cheek on her arm, she couldn't help but smile. Brenda was easily the most irritating person on the planet. Until she wasn't. And then she was the most gorgeous, dedicated, admirable woman Sharon had ever met. The most admirable woman Captain Raydor had ever met. Because their jobs defined the both of them, and Captain Raydor respected Chief Johnson in a way that she would never respect Will Pope.

It still made her sneer mentally that he narrowly escaped losing his job to Chief Johnson. Sooner or later, he was going to push the blonde Deputy Chief too far with his bullshit witch hunts, and Brenda would either quit or put him to pasture like he deserved to be. And Captain Raydor, that was soon to be Commander Raydor, fully intended for it to be him put to pasture somewhere safe - like traffic. Pope had invested too much in politics and not nearly enough in a foundation of the work ethic that made politics possible for his house of sand to continue. People like Brenda were the bedrock of the organization. She found herself kissing a warm shoulder and then was stunned.

What was she doing? Warm breasts were pressed against hers, warm toes were stroking her calf, and a sleepy hand had stolen under her shirt to touch her waist. And here she was worried about Chief Pope! By God, she needed to be worried about Chief Brenda Leigh (Oh, God, when did she become Brenda Leigh instead of Chief Johnson), then she felt a squeeze at her waist. It felt good. It felt friendly.

And it felt delicious.

Brenda Leigh felt so good next to Sharon and her powdery, lavender smell, but she had to get to work. Still, she took a risk. She pressed a small kiss to her head and then rolled out of bed, trying to find the coffee machine in a foreign household. Sharon, for her part, was paralyzed. The tiny kiss Brenda Leigh had planted on her temple seethed like acid had been placed there, bubbling and burning into her skin over time. She was sure that if she looked into the mirror, she could see the prints of that kiss. She heard Brenda making coffee in her kitchen, and struggled to take a breath.

The woman was gorgeous, in the lull of the morning light Sharon allowed herself to think it. Long legs, lips that were dying to be kissed, and snapping brown eyes that were both wise and ready to be astounded. Brenda Leigh was a contradiction and she felt herself falling to sleep again, thinking of her scent on the pillow.

"Oh Shoot." "Oh Shoot oh Shoot Oh SHOOT". Sharon sighed and drug herself out of bed, looking for her absent robe, and discovering that her slippers were missing. A bubble of ire rose up in her that the woman could take her robe, take her slippers, and fuck up her coffee pot when she had set it the night before.

She walked into the kitchen to see Brenda Leigh in her robe, in her slippers, and the coffee looked okay. She wasn't nearly as irritable at the lack of her slippers and robe. She pulled a cup from the cabinet, poured a cup and sipped. Then realized that pancake batter was spattered on every surface of her kitchen. Even the floor. Then she realized that the blender was about to possibly about erupt into a volcano in China. Brenda had pancake batter everywhere on her body, including her _robe_, which figured, but her beautiful, sleepy but stunned face was clear. Strawberries had burst from the blender, and now it appeared the hard won pancakes were burning.

She huffed a sigh. She couldn't even be angry. Brenda looked so morose that it just wasn't even worth chastising her about it. "Go. Take a shower, I'll get breakfast." At least the coffee was rich and dark. The blonde hung her head on the way to the bathroom in a way that made even the Captain sad. Not everyone was cut out to be in the kitchen.

Sharon cleaned up the mess, grateful for the coffee, and to her own surprise, grateful for the company. Yes, Brenda had blown up her kitchen, made a mess, but she was alive and brought life into everything. She wondered if Fritz appreciated that about her, because Sharon did. Captain Raydor certainly appreciated the life she brought to their investigations and their arguments.

Suddenly, Sharon realized something critical. Everything Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson did made her full of life, passion, anger, and yes, even delight. She laughed as she cleaned up the mess, wondering if she was losing her mind. She knew she must be when she grabbed the mop and gleefully cleaned up pancake batter while flipping a new set expertly onto a plate. She eyed the blender ruefully, then on impulse, threw the whole thing, blender and all into the trash. She wanted a new blender anyway, and that one had always been temperamental.

After arranging breakfast on a plate, she went to her room to get ready for work. When Brenda came out of the shower, she found an immaculate kitchen, and a plate of delicious pancakes. She blushed, and suddenly felt like a horse's ass for destroying the Captain's kitchen. The green-eyed woman had been so kind to her, and here she was, taking advantage of her kindness. She still had to go home but then realized she didn't have her car. After debating for a few minutes, she did what was the only thing she could do. She dived into the delicious pancakes and syrup, moaning with every bite.

She might as well enjoy them if they were the last bite of them she'd ever get. She felt a tear roll down her face as she took a sip of coffee. She wasn't even good enough for Fritzi, how would she ever be good enough for Captain Raydor? Not that she wanted, _exactly_, to be good enough for Captain Raydor. For Sharon, with her gorgeous green eyes, beautiful legs and a smile that could set the world on fire. Okay, maybe she did. But she wasn't. Her pancakes tasted too good, her coffee was too delicious, and she had ruined her blender this morning trying to make a smoothie.

She felt tears creep out of her eyes again. She could hear the shot ring out, as it came so close to her head that it made her ears ring, and feel the glass burst and the alcohol hit her skin. It was a miracle she didn't get cut but the glass any worse than rolling her knee in it when she took classic defensive shooting stance. She shouldn't think about it though, because she was tougher than that, and she was stronger than that. When Fritz shot the man that was about to kill her, he had impressed upon her how important it was to remember that he had saved her, and she should be grateful that he was there. He wanted her to quit to prove her gratitude.

Fritz always had a way of trying to make her remember how lucky she was to have him. Until she wasn't. Everything he did seemed to come with a price, and she had never seen that before, not until recently. Maybe that was why he was in D.C. Maybe that was why she was glad he was, and she was sitting in Sharon's kitchen eating the best pancakes she'd ever eaten.

Maybe that was why her heart grew lighter the moment she saw green eyes light up, freshly dressed and seeing her sitting there at the table with a fork in her hand. Sharon Raydor's smile made Brenda Leigh Johnson respond with one.

Sometimes, it was just that simple.


	3. Chapter 3

**A COLLISION WITH CHANCE**

(Chapter 3)

Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson marched through the doors at headquarters, punched the elevator button, and took a sip of the coffee from the travel mug the Captain had so helpfully supplied when she dropped her off at her home to get dressed. It was rather exquisite, with all of its earthy flavors, rich undertones and a hint of something spicy. She hadn't drank all of it yet, hoping to savor each taste of it as long as it was warm, and the green-eyed Captain had fine travel mugs to boot. Her mind was already wandering, but she took another sip anyway. _That woman. _ She made great coffee and pancakes. Her full stomach attested to that, but she schooled her features. _No use getting carried away._

She exited the blissfully empty elevator and strutted to her murder room. There was a hum of activity until she walked into the room; every voice quieted, and more than one of her detectives stopped speaking until the buzzing of printers spitting out paper, the cacophony of butts hitting chairs and the shriek of squeaky wheels sounded like a symphony of subterfuge. Conversation started back up, and glances were cast anywhere but her direction, and Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson knew she had to do something about that.

Surely they didn't think she had "stupid" written on her forehead if they thought they could get away with that kind of a reception. She smiled at each of them, and at the room in general while she took another sip of delicious coffee. She veritably spun on her heels as she went into her office, determined to figure out why her officers were slinking around like rats at a cheese-farm full of cats.

As she sorted through files, she felt a presence, not unexpected, at her doorway. Lt. Flynn stood there with a look of chagrin on his face. If it wasn't chagrin, then he'd eaten something worse than bad quinoa and sauerkraut (or whatever it was that vegetarians ate) for breakfast. She suspected the look on his face boded something much worse. It seemed she would find out the reason for the parade of uneasy she had walked into this morning without even asking.

"Chief," He began without preamble, "We've found the guy - the liquor store owner - that was at the scene. He was killed at close range." She opened her mouth to interrupt that she thought he had been waving a shotgun the last time she had heard from him, and it was the suspect that had seemed in immediate danger. Along with anyone in the vicinity of the man's booming, poorly aimed 12 gauge.

"The thing is," Andy took a breath and continued, "so was the shooter. He was found dead ten minutes after the liquor store owner was. This wasn't random." His voice was soft, and Brenda Leigh leaned back into her chair. Well wasn't that something. She was involved in a random shooting and it turned into a double homicide. "Chief Pope has already been asking about it." He finished in a serious tone, meeting her eyes with his own. She covered her face with her hand and took a deep breath. _Well doesn't that take the wind out of my sails_, she though ruefully.

Predictably, right on cue her office line rang, and it didn't surprise her at all that it was Chief Pope. She knew exactly where this one was going. She answered while waving Andy away, knowing that this wasn't destined to be the highlight of her morning. "Chief Johnson", she answered with as spry of a tone as she could muster.

"Good Morning, Brenda, I hope you are doing well this morning after your … mishap last night?" Will Pope's voice gave a fair shot at being warm and concerned, but to Brenda Leigh's ears, it just sounded unctuous. She couldn't wait to hear how this one was going to go. Still, she decided to go for nonchalance and hope for the best.

"Why, thank you, Will." Even she could hear the forced cheerfulness in her own voice. "I'm just fine considering, but I do thank you for your concern. Captain Raydor was extremely helpful last night and my squad is diligent this morning in makin' it a productive day." She wanted to groan at her own self. Why did she have to mention _that woman?_

"That's very good to hear, Chief, because since it was determined that the liquor store robbery that you interrupted is starting to look like a more targeted attempt, I'm hoping you can work smoothly with Captain Raydor until the conclusion of the case." Pope's voice was friendly and brimming with benevolence, which meant he was up to something. Then the full impact of what he had to say hit her, and she nearly spewed the fine coffee she had just sipped from the travel mug. "Come see me in my office at 8:30 am so that I can brief you on the details."

It would be a long day, yet again, and the day was just getting started. The only bright spot was that the moment she hung up with Will, her cell phone rang with a call from Fritz. She had a real excuse to let it go to voice mail. She didn't bother to think too deeply as to why that was a relief, but she did caress the silver travel mug for a moment before rising from her chair and heading to Pope's office.

**- () -**

Sharon Raydor fumed silently, though she would never let her face betray it unless it was useful. Will Pope was doing this intentionally to goad Brenda Leigh, and it was clear to her that Pope saw the blonde Chief as a rival. The Deputy Chief would never see it, though, because Brenda Leigh always seemed to see Will Pope as a friend. The woman wore blinders when it came to the men in her life, Sharon thought bitterly.

_Brenda Leigh? When did she become Brenda Leigh instead of Chief Johnson?_ That thought filtered through her mind, and she clenched her jaw while she clamped down on that thought. She resisted the urge to over-examine it, though she did punch the button to Pope's floor a little harder than necessary. A young detective standing next to her fumbled with a folder when she strode past him out of the elevator in a frosty cloud of clicking heels, warm smells and dark hair.

_Brenda Leigh, _she mentally emphasized in her thoughts, needed to be more careful. Pope was angling to move up the ladder, and anyone could see it. If he had to step on his Deputy Chief's head on his way up, he would do it without a thought. That angered the Captain on a fundamental level. She refused to watch a dedicated officer get thrown to the wolves just so that a man that wasn't worth the stars on his uniform could get another one. This latest situation had simply not been the blonde's fault. She had arrived at the scene and seen it for herself. That didn't stop Pope from attempting to take advantage of it, however, and Sharon Raydor was not going to stand by and do nothing.

Fire was in her eyes, though her face remained dispassionate when she entered Chief Will Pope's office at precisely 8:30 am. She didn't offer a greeting to the man, she merely skipped the pleasantries, nodded and took a seat, never removing her gaze from his face. There were many people who rightly feared the assistant Chief of Police, but Captain Sharon Raydor wasn't one of them. She was far more dangerous than Will Pope could ever be and needed half the reasons. Pope just wasn't smart enough to realize it, yet.

**-()-**

Brenda Leigh strode into Chief Pope's office, eyes darting to lock with his, then flashing to Sharon's. _When did she become Sharon instead of Captain Raydor?_ That thought flitted through her mind, even as she turned to close the door and politely greet them both. It never ceased to reveal her opponents intentions better than when she was polite and friendly. "Good morning Chief," she said brightly as she sat down, then she turned and caught green eyes. "And good morning to you too, Captain Raydor." She kept the warmth out of the tone, because for one moment, she was reminded of being in the woman's arms when she woke up.

Pope definitely did not need to suspect any of _that_ interaction. The Captain nodded her head briskly, but Brenda Leigh caught a hint of a sparkle in those telling green eyes. She was sure that she had never been able to read them before, but after drinking the woman's coffee, sleeping in her clothes, and curling up next to her body, she realized that there was far more warmth and kindness to the woman than most people saw. It was rather a startling revelation that she actually _liked _the Captain Raydor of this morning far more than she had ever imagined that she would.

Brenda Leigh, however, was a pretty good poker player, which was why she made such a great interrogator. None of those thoughts showed in her face or her posture. She let annoyance seep into her features and tone, condensing it all into a display of curious impatience. "Well, Will, Captain, I have a murder to solve so could we get to the point of why we are here this mornin'?" She let her tone drip with a honeyed accent more than normal.

Chief Pope, Will, looked daunted for a moment when she cut her brown eyes to his, but he cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Chief Johnson, the fact that you were involved in a shooting so soon on the heels of a major investigation has made certain members of the brass, shall we say, nervous." Brenda allowed irritation flare in her face, but privately, she knew that the only "member of the brass" that was nervous Will Pope because she was unequivocally cleared. "In keeping with that, the decision has been made that Captain Raydor and FID will assist you in this case to make certain that everything is by the book." He finished sternly, but there were hints of a smug smile trying to burst forth.

Brenda knew her role; she intended to play it. "Chief Pope, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and I cannot believe you would question me yet again that I was responsible for this mess. Now you want _this woman_," she said it with ire in her voice that she didn't truly feel, and hoped Sharon would forgive her, "intrudin' into my case just because somebody thinks I made a mistake?" Brenda let her voice raise a little. "I'd like to know who could do any better if they were in the store at the end of the day, got shot at, and had no back up!" The grand finale.

Chief Pope had the courtesy to at least look embarrassed. He waved a hand and made a show of being genuine. "Listen, Brenda, I know that, Captain Raydor knows that," he caught her eye but she didn't move a muscle in her stony countenance to give this charade creedance, "and the brass knows it. We just think it would read a bit better in the press if you were assisted by a neutral party." He finished, pleased with his explanation.

"You mean _you_ would feel better if I was monitored Chief." She huffed. She knew that was what it came down to. She just liked letting him play his hand all the way out. "That's okay, I understand, and I will cooperate as best as I can." She sighed, and then rose from her chair, inwardly chuckling at the stunned look on Will Pope's face at her acquiescence. Brenda then turned to Sharon, who still had not said a word, nor betrayed so much as a raised eyebrow and said, "Captain, if you would meet me downstairs, we can go over the particulars of this case."

"If that's all Chief?" She said in honeyed tones directing them to a stunned Will Pope. Oh, this wasn't going how he expected it _at all _Brenda thought with glee. "I have a murder to solve, and I suppose so does the Captain." He merely nodded his head as the Deputy Chief sailed out of his office with her head held high and the Captain gave him a small grin that made him feel as though his testicles should be crawling inside of his body for safe-keeping.


	4. Chapter 4

**A COLLISION WITH CHANCE**

(Chapter 4)

If Brenda Leigh Johnson had a cold look on her face as she punched the button to the elevator, Sharon Raydor was perceptive enough to not mention it. The Chief stared at the glowing orange light that signaled that their ride down below was on its way, and for some reason, that reminded her of reading about the levels of Hell in Dante's Inferno. She looked up into the stainless steel doors that reflected the woman standing beside her. Green eyes caught her own, and for one moment, Chief Johnson, _Brenda Leigh_, felt bouyed by the thought that she wouldn't be descending into Hell alone.

There was no way that the Captain could have read her thoughts, but _Sharon _softly touched her hand, rolled her eyes and made an extremely silly face. Brenda Leigh couldn't help but chuckle, and as the elevator door opened, she saw the shoulders of the normally reserved Captain start to shake, too. As soon as they closed, the two of them burst out laughing to such a degree that Brenda Leigh tripped in her heels, careening into the green-eyed woman. Quick as a flash, Sharon steadied the Chief and pressed the appropriate button, even though the mirth hadn't completely died in her eyes. She quickly regained her composure, though, and Brenda Leigh felt the warmth of Sharon's hand sober her through the mirth.

"Chief, you know this is a ploy of some sort to get you censured." It hit the blonde like a lightning bolt, this understanding of the Deputy Chief's situation and the political atmosphere that the brunette could fire through any situation. It struck her in her soul to think that this was another petty attempt by Pope at ousting her, but then again, it was nothing Brenda Leigh didn't expect. It was rather a relief to find that someone else understood it. She wasn't prepared to call Captain Raydor an ally, but Sharon appeared to be taking it seriously. Catching deeply concerned green eyes, it wasn't Chief Johnson that took a deep breath. Well, it was, but it was Brenda Leigh that responded.

"I know, Sharon." She said it quietly as the elevator dinged, signaling the halt to her floor. As she strolled out, she was shocked to see the Captain accompany her. "Don't you have to go to the eighth floor?" Brenda Leigh barely mumbled out, perplexed, waving a finger around. A stunning smile flashed at her for a second, so quickly that it almost seemed a figment of her imagination when it was replaced with a serious look.

"We have a murder to solve, Chief, and that is precisely what I intend to do." The dark haired woman strutted past her in a cloud of gorgeous, though severe suit-coating, dangerously high heels, and a smirk that could dice tomatoes and brick walls with equal efficacy. When Brenda paused, just staring at her, the Captain spun on a gorgeously shod foot and placed a hand on her shoulder, murmured softly in her ear.

"Your office, Chief." If it was meant as a hiss, it certainly came out as a purr. Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had never encountered anything like Captain Sharon Raydor when she was acting like this. The green-eyed woman was acting like she cared, acting like she was on her side, and it was very confusing for a woman convinced that she couldn't trust anyone but her self. Sharon Raydor was acting like a friend, and that, more than the expanse of gorgeous legs the Captain flashed, made Brenda Leigh shiver as she followed her into the Murder Room.

A/N - I had to update this one due to a plague of typos. I've been updating every day because I had that much written, but all of the chapters have been short. Expect updates about twice weekly from here on out, but much longer than the last few have been. Thanks to all who have reviewed and followed. It is nice to know my tale is appreciated :).


	5. Chapter 5

Sharon Raydor answered her voice mail and got what was possibly the oddest message she had ever received. It also filled her with a sense of trepidation, but Captain Raydor _was _an investigator at heart, so that meant her curiosity was piqued. She hastily scrawled the number on a memo pad. It was repeated so slowly and carefully that she didn't need to hear it the second time. She grinned ruefully, if only the vast majority of people let her a phone number half as audible; she kept it a closely guarded secret from the telecommunications department that the last time her phone needed to be replaced was because she had bashed it against her desk blotter in frustration of missing a phone number for the tenth time.

She cocked an eyebrow for a second, and then hung up the handset of her office phone, pulling out her cell phone instead. This was obviously personal, so there was no sense in dragging her work number into it, though obviously her caller knew exactly how to get in touch with her in the office. She decided to bite the bullet and call, knowing instinctively that this particular person would continue to call until she responded. It was, after all, something she would do were she in that situation.

The phone was answered on the second ring, and she imagined the woman sitting there anxious for information. Again, it was what she would be doing in the other woman's place. "Hello, Johnson residence, Willie Rae speaking." The deep Southern drawl was tinged with concern.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Johnson, this is Sharon Raydor. How are you today?" She figured she'd start off with pleasantries, knowing that the warm woman on the other end of the phone would inform her if that wasn't the tone of this conversation. The woman was much like Brenda Leigh in that regard, and Sharon was not disappointed.

"Now, Sharon, what have I told you about callin' me Willie Rae? As I said to you before, any friend of Brenda Leigh's is a friend of mine, so please honey, let's not be so formal." She gushed sweetly, but there was still a tinge of worry in her voice as she continued. "Thank you so much for returning my call. My daughter said that she stayed with you last night after that horrible shooting incident, and I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Both of the Captain's eyebrows arched at that, and wondered exactly when _that_ conversation had taken place. Apparently, in the Chief's personal life, there wasn't a minute of the day that was free from some drama. _Scratch that. In the Chief's life, period._ She mentally amended. As a mother herself, though, she knew exactly what she had to do, and briefly wondered if the blonde master manipulator had engineered just this scenario. She wouldn't put it past Brenda Leigh Johnson.

"Thank you honey for taking care of her and making sure she is staying put." Willie Rae's voice was musical with joy, but she hung up with finality. Sharon Raydor was about to have a house guest.

Damn it.


	6. Chapter 6

With a delicate hand on Chief Johnson's elbow, Captain Raydor lead the blonde into her office, noting her delicate ankles, and the taut breasts shoving the sweater despite the bearer's strange disposition.

This was Chief Johnson giving her statement, and she seemed small, withdrawn and pale. Captain Raydor could have capitalized on it, but Sharon found that she couldn't. The blonde woman looked so drawn. She searched her features to see if it was an act. Brenda Leigh had been trained by the best at subterfuge; Captain Raydor would always scan for CIA training and dissembling in a subject like this.

Except that she wasn't a "subject" anymore. She wasn't a CIA trained interrogator and detector of deception today. Sharon kept her face very carefully still, because she felt something in it that almost betrayed softness. Brenda was flesh and blood that ate her pancakes in her kitchen, drank her coffee, and she didn't want to finish that thought. They both knew what happened last night, it wasn't necessary that Sharon rehash it in her mind. This had to go by the book.

She had to become Captain Raydor, the FID investigator. Stealing herself she did, and grilled the gorgeous blonde like a steak, even though it drove a stake into her heart each time she elicited an answer.

Chief Johnson gave her statement, but caught herself before nearly hugging her floral skirted knees. She moved her own hand down to the armrests of her chair when she realized that her dire thoughts were giving her away and sought the bulletin board with her eyes through the window of her office.

_A flash surged through her and she ducked, feeling the sloshing of alcohol and glass around her and the explosion in her ears. Kendrick Moore, the shooter, had shot at her to leave no witnesses. Hugo Valentine reacted like a man ready for someone to try to kill him. As he whipped the shotgun out, Kendrick stumbled, gloved hands ghosting on the floor as he bolted out of the door in a crouch. _

_LAPD DROP YOUR WEAPON, Brenda Leigh heard her own shout in her own ears, then rolled into the pain of glass in her knee. The mess. The shot she attempted to set up from her own 9mm, only to feel a sting in her eyes that she couldn't bear. The blast from the shotgun that sounded like a cannon in Brenda's ears. Whiskey was running in her eyes, and she couldn't open them or be sure when or if she screamed for the shooter to stop. _

Brenda Leigh Johnson had been in situations far more harrowing, but this one, so unexpected when she thought she was done with them for the day, rocked her to the core of her very foundations. She knew why, though. There would be no Fritz to hold her when she got home, not that she wanted him just now, but she missed having arms around her. She wouldn't have any of that in her foreseeable future. She shivered for a moment thinking of the alcohol cascading over her, willing the thought of other warm arms around her away.

Until Fritz quit drinking again, his arms weren't going to be possible. And lately, she was beginning to think his weren't what she wanted, at all. She took a deep breath, opened deep brown eyes and ventured a smile at the green eyed woman taking her statement. For just one moment, Sharon shown through, more than Captain Raydor. The Captain caught her eyes and looked like she might do something compassionate like slip her hand over the Chief's own, until she looked back down at her notes and began writing.

Feeling completely out of sorts, Brenda Leigh shot out of her chair and smoothed her skirt, even as it bounced off of the back wall. Captain Raydor didn't so much as twitch her pen from the pad she was taking notes on, and Brenda Leigh had to fight down a spiteful flare of envy that Sharon Raydor could be so composed when everything went to hell. She smoothed her skirt down, fighting down the urge to throw something, including the green-eyed _woman_ out of her office and instead snatched her drawer open with a loud clang.

The noise finally drew the green eyes behind the glasses up, and Captain Raydor looked startled at the complexion on Chief Johnson's face. The woman looked pale, furious, and unwell. She quickly rose from the chair, dropping her pen and notes into an adjacent one and rose to head into the Murder Room, getting a generous cup of water from the cooler.

It wasn't much, but hopefully, it could revive the Chief's suddenly pale features at relaying the situation that had happened the night before. This was nothing like Brenda Leigh. Chief Johnson was stronger and more resilient than steel, and could be more soft than silk before making it into a garrotte. The idea of her blanched, looking unwell was, well, out of Captain Raydor's purview, and she certainly wasn't going to let anyone on her squad see her like this.

Marching back into the office, Captain Raydor pulled the blinds, locked the door and presented the flustered Deputy Chief with some cool water.

"It's okay, Chief." She said, smooth voice soothing the blonde Chief that looked more out of sorts than she had ever seen her. Sharon gently reached out a hand, and raised the pointed chin, Brenda's dark eyes meeting hers with something that reminded her of a frightened colt. Captain Raydor was glad that she had closed the blinds, because she was certain that Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson would never want anyone to see her like this, but even more so, Sharon felt protective of the fragile looking blonde in front of her.

Taking a hand in hers, feeling how cool it was, Sharon pressed the cup of water into it. Brown eyes blinked at the sensation, and looked down slowly at the sight of a hand gripping her own and a cup of water. Brown eyes closed again, but wordlessly brought the cup to her mouth, fluid soothing her tongue. For a few moments, the Captain just held the hand that was drinking the water, and held her green eyes to the sight of the pale, but recovering face of the Chief. It was soft, but her cheeks were getting a rosy tone.

Brown eyes were starting to sparkle again, but her Chief was far from well. She trembled a bit under Sharon's touch, which was not like the spirited, disciplined blonde at all. Sharon wanted nothing more than to rob the gorgeous woman before her of that defeated look. Stroking her arm, feeling the warmth of it, and gazing into those luminous eyes, she wanted to take that haunted look out of her eyes.

So she did what she could. She embraced her.


End file.
